


Too Accurate, Perhaps

by ThisToo_ShallPass



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-23 20:46:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/626356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisToo_ShallPass/pseuds/ThisToo_ShallPass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A surprised Severus Snape learns more than he bargained for about the Boy-Who-Lived during a surprise trip to a museum.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Accurate, Perhaps

**Author's Note:**

> Another oldy I wrote whist supposed to be writing a Houdini biography....Good times....

"Albus, I still don't understand why I have to do this," Severus grumbled, not caring about the wide-eyed boy sitting next to him.

"Oh come now Severus, you can't deny the fact that this could be good for young Mr. Potter," the headmaster calmly stated back.

Severus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He knew he shouldn't have come when the headmaster had summoned him to his office, requesting that he wear Muggle clothing. The headmaster had somehow come up with an insane idea for him to take Harry to a museum. A muggle one, nonetheless. In the twinkling eyes of the headmaster, though, it seemed like the perfect plan for "bonding time."

"I, as well as the rest of the staff, have never taken a potential student on a 'field trip' before," he sneered. "What makes you think we should start now?"

"I just think it will be a good opportunity for you and Harry to…get to know each other a bit better."

"He's six years old!" Severus argued. "I fail to see how he wants to go to an  _adult, Muggle_  museum with anyone, let alone  _me._ "

.

Said six year old, Harry Potter, was indeed staring at the Potions Master, his eyes wide. He didn't exactly know what the two were talking about, just that the kind older man was trying to get the grumpy black-haired man to take him somewhere. A museum? Harry had heard about those, but had never been inside of one, for two main reasons: One, the Dursleys would never waste their time by taking  _him_  to a museum. Two, Dudley had never had an interest to even go within fifty yards of the "filthy place" (as Uncle Vernon had called it). Still, it seemed interesting enough. Better than the all-white room he had been in for the last week after being taken away from the Dursleys by the same older white-bearded man. And definitely better than having lots of nasty drinks shoved down his throat. Although they made him feel better, and made the hurting go away, they sure were nasty! Harry shook his head, trying to focus more on the conversation going on around him.

.

"Severus, please." Dumbledore was unusually solemn, and Severus inwardly cursed. No one in this school had ever dared to defy him when he was using this tone.

"Alright," he agreed unwillingly. "And which museum will we be going to?"

That insane twinkle returned to the headmaster's eyes, and Severus knew he was in trouble. "Oh, nothing special, just a personal favorite. I have arranged for a Portkey." He nodded at the raggedy hairbrush on his desk – the one that hadn't been there a second ago.

Severus pursed his lips, trying not to let a biting comment slip out. "Very well, Headmaster."

.

Harry stared at the knotted hairbrush. That hadn't been on the desk earlier! And the black-haired man seemed to be glaring at it. He looked at the headmaster in confusion. The man just smiled at him. "Put your hand on the brush, Harry. You'll be going on a special trip with Mr. Snape here."

At the words "special trip," Harry's heart began to pound, despite his efforts to stay calm. Did the man mean…No, he couldn't, he had been so nice to him before!

Tentatively, he reached out his hand, trying not to let it shake. It touched the brush and he flinched, expecting something to happen. When nothing did, he looked back to the man, Mr. Snape it seemed, who was now touching the object as well. For a second, nothing happened, and Harry was sure that the device had broken, but then he was jerked upwards somewhere around his belly button and he shrieked and almost let go of the thing – except the man wouldn't let him. The bigger hand was over his, making it impossible to let go. Still, that didn't stop him from crying and jerking around, feeling for the first time and not liking the sensation.

.

Severus nearly let the child let go, growling at how the young boy whined and shook around. Did his relatives teach him nothing? He thanked Merlin when his feet hit solid ground right to the side of the museum. Dumbledore hadn't wanted anyone to see them when they Portkeyed, therefore they were somewhat on the side of the museum.

The boy was still right on the ground where he had landed with the Portkey. "Get up, you insolent boy! Or do you want grass stains all over your clothes?" Now that he thought about it, those clothes looked like the spare clothes from the Hospital Wing. Had the boy no clothes to put on of his own?

.

Harry's eyes were damp, but he wasn't crying. What  _was_  that? Whatever it was, he hoped that he'd never have to do it again…He got up from the ground, trying to brush the dirt off of himself. He followed the dark man, no, Mr. Snape, to the door of the museum. As they walked in, the older man paid the fare and they walked in.

The six year old looked around in wonder and awe. So  _this_  was a museum! Wow…he looked around at everything…There must be at least three or four floors!

Speaking up for the first time, he turned to the tall man and shyly asked, "Can we go look around?"

.

Severus couldn't exactly bring himself to glare at the girl at the front desk who "awww'd" at Harry's admittedly cute voice. "Of course. That would be why we are here," he drawled.

Ignoring the now-moony girl, he walked to the first exhibit. This was going to be a long day…

~~~

Exactly four hours and thirty minutes later, Harry was somehow full of energy, which was more than what could be said for Severus. The already grumpy man was almost lagging behind Harry. "One more place, please…?"

"Fine," he bit out, and the young boy squealed in delight, grabbing his hand and dragging him (or trying to) to what seemed to be the last room/exhibit

At least it was something remotely interesting. Severus had done a lot of reading in his lifetime, and vaudeville was one of the more intriguing Muggle topics, he supposed. The whole exhibit had bizarre pictures of some of the old "wild man" and "Siamese twins" acts.

"…Mr. Snape?" Harry questioned in his too-quiet, too-shy voice. Severus looked over at what the boy was pointing to. "Yes?" he asked as he walked over there. The child was pointing to a sign, it seemed.

Said sign read,  _Millions of Americans paid to see sideshow entertainers at the turn of the twentieth century. These entertainers divided themselves into natural curiosities and novelty acts. Natural curiosities included "midgets," "giants," "Siamese twins," and bearded ladies. Houdini's magic fit the novelty act along with others like snake charmers, contortionists, and knife throwers. Many people called these entertainers "freaks." "Freaks" performed in sideshows at circuses, fairs, amusement parks, and in dime museums across the country._

_Note: The exhibit uses offensive terms because they are historically accurate._

Harry's face was screwed up in confusion. "They had people like me?" he asked, still pointing at the sign. Or really, one specific word on the sign.  _Freaks._

Severus's brows went slightly up as he tried to dissect what Harry had just asked of him. "What? Explain yourself, boy."

"Freaks," Harry said, as if Severus was dumb. "It said they had freaks there. So did they have more people like me?"

The people still in the exhibit were starting to stare, so Severus took the boy by the hand, his lips pressed together in a thin line, and led him to a spot by the bathrooms that was currently empty. He knelt down in front of the green-eyed boy and tried to sound caring.

"Harry, where did you get the idea that you were a freak?" he asked softly.

.

Harry was pretty nervous. The Dursleys told him never to tell anyone…but he didn't want to lie to the nice man…

He decided to go for the truth. "The Dursleys," he said quietly. "That's what they always called me. Why? Am I not a freak or something…?"

He didn't see what the big fuss was.

.

Severus carefully reached out and grabbed Harry's shoulders. "Potter…Harry," he corrected himself, "You are not a freak. The Dursleys had no right to call you that." Merlin, what had gone on all during all those years in which Harry had been stuck with those…monsters? "If anything, it is them who are freaks."

He looked deep into those eyes, eyes as green as Lily's, and saw them water up. "R- Really?" the boy stuttered, looking for all the world like he wanted to believe what Severus was telling him.

"Yes. They had no right to call you that, and I'm sorry for the treatment you were exposed to," Severus said formally, but his eyes widened as Harry leapt forwards and caught him in a big hug,

.

Harry couldn't believe it. Not only did the man take him to an actual  _museum,_ here he was telling him that he wasn't a freak after all! Was this a dream? He lunged forwards and hugged the man, feeling tears threaten to fall down his face. "Thank you, Mr. Snape," he choked out.

He felt the man's reply rumble through his chest from where he was still hugging him. "My name is Severus, Harry, Severus."

.

Everything passed quickly after that. They got back to Hogwarts, where Dumbledore was still smiling benignly, and continued to do so when Severus announced that he would take care of Harry from then on.

The pair made their way to Severus' quarters, where they quickly fell asleep on the couch in front of the fireplace.

When Severus woke up, it was to find himself on the couch, Harry curled up beside him.

It wasn't a good thing that had brought them together, but they were together nonetheless.

Now that he looked back on it all though, he remembered the last line on that sign, written in a miniscule font.

_Note: The exhibit uses offensive terms because they are historically accurate._

Thinking about it now, Severus thought that they were too accurate, perhaps.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
